Treading

Since I'm done with things that are important (taxes, Passover cleaning, failing to get a lease for my Urban Dream House) and I can't/won't do other things that are important (packing what appears to be an infinite amount of stuff, getting a lease for my Urban That'll-Do House, laying eyes on my Urban That'll-Do House), I'm focusing pretty heavily on the unimportant (Facebook, Bones, lackadaisically "organizing" my email inbox). Strangely, this has included less reading that one might think. I am not, for example, reading right now, although I could be learning more about Filipina nannies and narratorial voice from Mona Simpson. I'm not avoiding this, exactly. I just like to picture a life in my head and nestle into the picture (which is probably one reason I like reading so much, so intensely, so fetishistically); failing that, I'm having a hard time living in my own. I read the Cordelia Gray (see previous post), but I didn't really sink into it; for that matter, I struggled some with Call Me Irresistible, which serves no other purpose than the sinking. It's possible, I guess, that James' women, unleavened, are just too much; possible that Susan Elizabeth Phillips' characters are just buried under backstory now; but I think my brain just wants to have moved already, is in Chicago in spirit. Maybe it's getting some reading done.